


Something For The Pain

by JoansGlove



Series: Hierarchy of Needs [4]
Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-04-30 16:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5170253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoansGlove/pseuds/JoansGlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rita was dead and now Vera required comfort - but Joan was highly uncomfortable about the level of intimacy Vera was suggesting ....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Duchess x

Joan had told her: “Go home, Vera. Take care of your mother.” And that’s exactly what she’d done – taken care of her until there was nothing left anymore in this world for her to care for.  
She called the doctor first and then she had called Joan.

Joan’s timing was impeccable; arriving radiant in white linen just as Vera was showing the doctor out. She judged Vera to be in a state of relieved shock - her exhausted mind numbly registering that she had finally freed herself of her oppressive burden yet grieving the loss of her only family. 

Vera had worked herself to the bone to try and discover the source of the pernicious drug supply; she had tried to do all that Joan had asked of her and more following her beating but Joan had maintained needling pressure until even the kudos of preventing Conway’s escape raised no pride in her. She dreaded the loss of Joan’s respect, she could feel it ebbing away but could not understand why; nothing she did pleased the Governor anymore. Would she recognise the audacious step her Deputy had just taken for her? For both of them?  
Vera stared at her hands as they plucked at the tails of her work shirt. “I don’t know what to do, Joan. What will I do?” She seemed to deflate as she stood alone in her confusion.

Now was the time to make Vera hers. It would require some masterful play acting on her part but Joan knew that Vera required a gentle touch, the so-called warmth of human kindness to ensure that her bonds of loyalty were forged good and strong. Vera may have an unnaturally strong physical effect on her but Joan could not find it in herself to feel real sentiment towards this emotionally driven creature.  
She reached out and stilled Vera’s fretful fingers. “It’s natural to feel lost in the aftermath of a death. I know what it’s like to watch someone take their last breath, Vera. To know that they will never open their eyes or touch another person again.” She looked deep into Vera’s eyes and wrapped a bare arm around the subdued woman, guiding her into the dated lounge. 

They sat side by side on the sofa. Joan’s arm was still around Vera, pulling her into her chest, Vera’s cheek nestled against her breast. The odour of vinegar rose from Vera’s rumpled uniform. They sat like that for a long time, Vera’s breath occasionally hitching as wretched tears pricked at her eyes.  
“You know, you can rely on me, Vera. If you should need anything you only have to ask.” Joan’s voice reverberated through her chest into Vera’s ear  
Vera looked up into her face. “I need to know that I mean something to you Joan, that I’m not just a project of yours.”  
Joan took a deep breath. “Vera, you are very important to me. I can’t always show it in the way you expect or imagine, but you are.” She placed her large, pale hand over Vera’s as they lay loosely in her lap, her thumb rubbing across delicate knuckles. “I am….” she hesitated “… extremely fond of you.”  
“You can you know, you can show it...”  
Vera’s look was so earnest that Joan felt a twinge of pity for her neediness. She thought back to the strength that she had been required to find following the loss of her own parents, she’d been so much younger than Vera and almost as alone. She kissed Vera’s forehead, wrinkling her nose at the sour smell clinging to her skin. “Alright then, for starters I’m going to run you a bath and then I’m going to stay with you until you fall asleep. It will all feel better tomorrow.” 

She made her way down the hall to the bathroom; it was as faded as the rest of the house but the tub was deep and clean. She ran the taps and added lavender and rosemary oils to aid Vera’s relaxation. She was inspecting the hoist with a mixture of distaste and curiosity when a noise made her turn. Vera stood in the doorway. “It was for Mum.” She cast a guilty glance back at the sick room then turned her stare on Joan. Joan was the orchestrator of this misery yet also the cause of her uncomfortable relief.  
“Come on; let’s get you in the bath.” She unwound the bandage from Vera’s sore wrist.  
Vera made a half-hearted attempt at removing her uniform, her lethargic movements prompting Joan to strip her and encourage her, a gentle hand between delicate shoulder blades, into the water. Joan’s pulse quickened at the sight of Vera, naked and vulnerable. She watched silently as Vera listlessly wet herself. Her perfect breasts gleamed in the overhead light.  
Joan swallowed at the distracting sight. “I’ll make you some tea.” 

Stopping at Rita’s room she quietly turned the handle and entered. The old woman looked shrunken and waxy as Joan leant over and whispered into her ear: “I told you that she could end your life any time she liked didn’t I? You should have treated her better.”

She found the opiates in the kitchen. She was just securing her handbag when she heard Vera crying; ragged sobs that reverberated round the tiled room and spilled out into the hallway. She found Vera sitting as she’d left her, tears coursing down her face, wetting her drawn lips as she beat futilely against her thighs with her small fists.  
Joan knelt beside the bath and gently massaged Vera’s thin neck and shoulders “Hey, hey. Shhh shhhh, Vera ….. shhhhh. Come on, lie back.” Cradling Vera’s neck in her hand Joan slowly soaped the unresisting woman’s body; the feel of those resilient breasts remained imprinted on her palm for long moments before her hand slid between Vera’s legs. Joan felt her nipples contract as Vera’s thighs parted and soft hair brushed her wrist.  
Vera’s mind reeled as her senses responded to the efficient action of Joan’s steady hand. She focused on the swell of Joan’s breast visible above the open yoke of her shirt and felt herself lifted as Joan’s toned arm snaked beneath her to wash her back and bottom. Vera felt dreadful but the dark threads of pleasure that Joan was wrapping around her body were re-awakening her desire for this handsome, capable woman.

“We’ll get this hair washed and then you can get some rest.” Sitting Vera up Joan reached for the shower attachment. As she flipped the mixer switch water shot out in all directions soaking her thin white blouse and thighs, rivulets racing down to bleed into her crotch. “What the…?” She recoiled in horror.  
“Yeah, that doesn’t work properly. We use the jug.” 

Joan lathered shampoo into her hair and Vera flushed as prickles flowed from her scalp; it felt so good, so comforting and so familiar. Her mother had done this for her as a child. Tears sprang unbidden and she began to sob again. “Oh Joan, it’s so horrible!”  
“It’s OK, Vera, it’s OK.” She rinsed the suds from Vera’s sleek brown hair and cradled her head against her already sodden chest.  
Vera clung to Joan as she awkwardly helped her out of the bath; Joan’s clothing blotting away the runnels that darted their way down her limp body. Realising with deserved irritation that there were no towels Joan lifted Vera like a baby and carried her effortlessly up to her bedroom, her deputy’s hot body burning her skin through her ruined shirt.

Joan found towels in the linen cupboard. Dropping one in Vera’s shivering lap she patted at her own damp neck. “Vera, you will have to do some of this yourself. Come on, snap out of it!”  
Vera turned her doleful eyes on Joan, the dark threads tightening as she saw just how transparent her clothing had become. The wet fabric clung to the hard points of Joan’s breasts, clearly defining their contours, sticking to her gently curved stomach and firm, rounded thighs. Vera stared hard at the clear shadow of Joan's pubic triangle. Her red-rimmed eyes darkened as she licked her salty lips.  
She raised her face at the sound of her name and held Joan’s stare for a long moment before deliberately returning her eyes to the prominent nipples.  
“I feel like I’m in my first wet T-shirt competition! Do you have anything that might fit me whilst these dry?”  
Vera stood up and walked slowly towards Joan; thick, wet curls lying heavily around her neck. She approached so close that she had to side-step the damp amazon to reach her wardrobe, taking care that her long nipples brushed Joan’s bare arm as she skirted past. Vera removed a red satin kimono. “Here.”  
Joan turned under Vera’s loaded gaze and took the proffered garment. 

Down in the laundry room Joan stripped bare, goose bumps spreading over her chilled skin. Pulling on the kimono so obviously designed for a narrower frame she smiled wryly – it would only provide the required coverage if she stood still, any movement caused the satin to slip away exposing alarming tranches of skin - had Vera engineered this? She knew that some people sought the vitality of sex in the midst of bereavement, was this Vera’s way of coping? 

Her return found Vera weeping again. Her tears splashed onto her thighs as she sat like a broken puppet.  
“Under the covers, come on.” Joan was becoming tired of Vera’s attitude. She was allowing herself to become the victim again.  
Vera ogled Joan. Her wet eyes grew wide as she appreciated how high the hem rode on Joan’s leg; how every step allowed glimpses of pale thigh and the whisper of black hair; how the satin shone like lacquer, every curve of Joan’s body emphasised with a glossy sheen. Joan's nipples were clearly outlined, the small central peaks ringed by the raised, crinkled areolae. Vera’s clit pulsed sudden heat up her body, her chest flushed and her nipples responded to the surge of sudden lust.  
Carefully climbing in beside Vera Joan encouraged her to cuddle up. She folded Vera into her arms, stiffening ever so slightly as her overwrought charge returned the embrace, her wet face buried in Joan’s uncomfortably exposed cleavage.

Vera took a deep breath. “Will you make love to me Joan? Please? No games, no rules? Please, I just want to feel good for a while.”  
“Are you sure that this is what you want, Vera?”  
“I don’t know, Joan, but it feels right. I feel like I need this.” Vera quivered as she stared at the magnificent breasts rising and falling before her eyes. She needed to push away her thoughts of Rita, needed to forget the coldness that had filled her heart. She wanted Joan to validate her actions, to rekindle the spark of self-worth that had been quashed for so long, to treat her like a human being. Like an equal.  
Lifting Vera’s chin Joan kissed her forehead; tilting her chin further she softly kissed the tears from Vera’s eyes, imagining herself the strong male lover in a silent film. 

Joan was torn. Granting Vera’s wish was the most obvious way of cementing their allegiance – Vera had done as she’d silently instructed and now she required succour but she was highly uncomfortable about the level of intimacy Vera was suggesting. Her sexual encounters with Vera were never spontaneous or unguarded. They had a purpose in her education. Yet the small black voice in the pit of her mind was telling her that this was what she wanted, what she had always wanted from Vera and here was the perfect chance to capitalise on the opportunity! She railed against the insistent thought. She may be able to ‘let go’ when there was a limited chance of repercussions but Vera was her subordinate! However, a reward was in order; after all, she had just disposed of her mother for the sake of her advancement….. A notable step in her evolution Joan acknowledged.  
It was a calculated risk. She removed her watch and aligned it precisely with the edge of the night stand.

Vera’s lips were hesitant when Joan finally grazed them with her own. This was only the second kiss Joan had ever given her. Her hand crept up Joan’s smooth back as she extended her neck to nibble at Joan’s lower lip.  
Feeling muscles tense Vera paused the journey of her hand and drew away, looking at Joan for guidance.  
Joan forced a smile. “It’s alright, Vera. I think tonight falls under the banner of ‘Special Circumstances’. You may touch me.”  
“Even down there?” Wonderment hushed her voice. Her eyes shone with hope and anticipation.  
Joan hesitated, her lip between caught white teeth. “If it comes to that then yes. But this evening does not set a precedent, Vera. I’m allowing this because you need it to heal. Understood?”  
Vera nodded mutely, excitement welling in her battered soul.


	2. Chapter 2

Joan withdrew her arm from around Vera’s shoulders and pushed her back into the pillows so she could lean over and delicately kiss Vera’s face, gently nibble her ears and neck. Her hand found Vera’s breast as she rubbed her lips over Vera’s soft, swollen mouth. Vera responded instantly, her tongue flickering out to search for Joan’s. So predictable thought Joan as she grudgingly allowed access, chafing at the feel of Vera’s hand on her robed shoulder. Disengaging from Vera’s insistent mouth Joan focused her attention on chewing her deputy’s ear, a far more pleasing activity to her at this juncture.

A large, smooth hand moved down to Vera’s hip, sliding under her bum, squeezing and releasing; gliding along her outer thigh, moving with tantalising slowness back along the inner surface until it encountered Vera’s moist cunt. Joan pushed her middle finger into the furred divide and worked it back and forth until it lay against Vera’s innermost curve, her hand riding Vera’s movements as she rocked into Joan’s embrace. Despite her expectations the level of Vera’s wetness was surprising. It saturated her palm as her finger sank into the intense fire of Vera’s receptive vagina.

Unable to stop herself, Vera’s hands roamed over Joan’s tits as she pushed against her probing finger; her palms burning against the superheated satin sandwiched between their fiery skins, her fingertips slipping over hard nipples, outlining the areola. She fervently kissed Joan’s cleavage.  
Joan’s cunt betrayed her and responded to the deep pleasure Vera was providing, her swelling lips lubricated by a trickle of sticky juices. Each pass of Vera’s fingers over her sensitive tips shot bolts of liquid fire to Joan’s clit. Damn this woman! Why did Vera require this gentle treatment just when she was so vulnerable? It was almost a torture to Joan to have to keep her darker desires locked away at this time. Vulnerable women were so pliable, accepting - so willing to please, so easy to persuade. Her black eyes shone with liquid tenderness as she remembered the broken and snivelling Vera that had acquiesced to her punishment that still, hot night not so long ago.

Vera pushed the kimono aside. Finally! Joan’s naked breast! She didn’t know what to do. No, no - she knew exactly what to do. She ran her hand over the glorious orb; her span could not contain it, the pillowy softness overflowed her outstretched fingers in silky gathers. Stretching her neck Vera lowered her mouth over Joan’s rosy nipple. It felt rubbery as her tongue grated wetly over the tough disc and curled round the jutting peak. She sucked, rubbing her tongue over the very tip, slowly opening her jaws to take as much as she could. She sensed Joan’s breathing quicken and felt her finger falter deep in her core only to slide out and tickle her delicate frills as they expanded under the expert touch. Her own breathing becoming laboured, Vera released her suctioning lips and tweaked the stiff nipple. Joan gasped with her next startled breath.  
“Shall I do it harder?”  
“No, that’s fine.” There was no need to lose control tonight.

Withdrawing her finger Joan sat up and threw the bedclothes aside; she settled knees splayed between Vera’s legs. Her kimono hung open at her sides, the broad slash of her creamy body and thighs gleaming against the crimson lustre. Her eyes bored into Vera’s as she bent forward over her pointed breasts. She’d waited for what had seemed an eternity to kiss them. Relenting to Vera’s need had its advantages.   
Her eyes journeyed down Vera’s neck and chest to her soft, velvety buds. Faint rose coloured lines were still visible on the delicately veined skin; she smiled to herself thinking how beautiful they had looked that night, swollen and red, tiny jewels of blood drying instantly on the abused, burning skin.   
Vera’s tits fit so well in her hands; they lent themselves so well to being squeezed and crushed – soft yet resilient. She slid Vera’s long, brown nipples between each forefinger and middle gripping them as they slithered the short but seemingly interminable distance to blunt fingertips.   
Joan flicked the malleable nubs with hard, polished nails. The sharp pain swelled Vera’s clit, pleasure flooding out to warm her whole cunt. She moaned softly, lip between teeth. She arched into Joan, hands pushing hard on Joan’s knees as the staccato beat of her nails wound the coil of tension in Vera’s belly.  
Unable to resist any longer Joan drew Vera’s breast into her hungry mouth. Taking long, sucking bites her lips dragged over soft, soft skin, teeth compressing the flesh beneath it. She closed her eyes as she suckled, lost in the moment.

Vera began to writhe against Joan’s mons that pressed so firmly between her wide open thighs, the slippery friction of their soft hair stimulated Vera’s outer lips, creating a maddening need for her aching wetness to be touched; her clit throbbed and jerked.

Joan felt juices seeping down through her bushy thatch to mingle with her own growing wetness as Vera ground her hot cunt into her mound. “Am I the first lover you’ve had in your bed, Vera?”  
“There, there was Fletch - but we never actually…..!” Her embarrassment was palpable.  
Joan gave a half smile and resumed sucking on the long, hard tip of her right breast; fingers milking the surrounding flesh. Her other hand descended to Vera’s sopping snatch, her thick fingers painting the inner surfaces with slippery juices; Vera’s familiar sweetness had been replaced by a briny, mineral smell.   
Her partner let out a deep moan as Joan briskly manipulated her clit. Two fingers, then three were pushed into Vera’s soft, fluttering vagina, her rigid clit massaged by the heel of Joan’s hand. 

Vera responded to Joan’s rhythmic action, she felt the dark threads weaving together to bind her in a web of urgent passion, her body crying out for more against the already overwhelming feeling of Joan touching her just as she’d always fantasised. She writhed as Joan built the sweet ache in her belly; she raked her fingers through Joan’s hair as attention turned to her other breast, unravelling the loose plait, combing out the dark tresses that cascaded over her chest and ribs, sensuously ticklish against her sensitised skin. 

Vera gathered Joan’s ebony mane in her hands and pulled her head away from her chest. Joan looked so beautiful just then, her strong face framed by swathes of glossy waves, eyes wide and shining, her crimson lips swollen and moist. Vera pulled Joan’s face towards her till she was nose to nose with the tall woman.   
She forced her mouth against Joan’s and nipped at her bottom lip, worrying the mobile skin till she felt Joan’s hot tongue working its way past her teeth to slide against her own, still thick from tears.  
Joan’s long arm stretched down between their bodies, her palm was full of Vera’s slick liquid and her wrist was wet from her own secretions as her rhythmic hand rubbed against their excited slits in tandem. 

Vera’s small hands found their way back to Joan’s heavy tits, squeezing and kneading as she rode the surges of ecstasy. They roamed across hot skin, under the clinging satin; hurriedly she pushed it off Joan’s shoulders and down her arms; she barely felt the twinge of her injured wrist such was her need to unclothe this goddess. Urging Joan to sit up she stripped the sensuous fabric from one long, pale arm and, pressing her upper body against Joan’s, she pulled it from the lithe muscular back till it pooled around the strong wrist that disappeared between their thighs. Vera climbed onto Joan’s lap and wrapped her arms around her neck, burying her face into the hollow of Joan’s shoulder as she rode the unfaltering hand. Her mewling cries were muffled by the thick skein of Joan’s hair that coiled across her fragrant collar bone, emerging as hot whimpers that wreathed their fervent lovemaking.  
She absorbed the immense heat radiating from the velvety white skin, inhaled her tangy scent; she felt as if she were drawing strength from her lover. Joan’s steady, skillful action was initiating long pulses down her thighs and up the muscles of her belly to her breasts.  
Vera’s muscles tightened around Joan’s fingers as the first tendrils of orgasm wound themselves through her senses. Her moans became hoarse grunts, ragged growls. She’d never made this kind of noise before and she had no control, she didn’t want to have control… she surrendered to the intense surge utterly.


	3. Chapter 3

Vera clung to Joan, her open mouthed cry turning to a deep, breathless, silent sob. She turned her face into Joan’s neck, her teeth pressing hard into the column of muscle and sinew as she wordlessly screamed her anguish in a rictus of self-loathing.  
Here she was, fucking her boss with her dead mother, not yet cold, lying downstairs and god help her she had killed her own mother for her own ends yet she was naked and, …and almost happy. Her breath returned in hitching sobs. Reason abandoned her. She was a monster, a scared little girl, a bitter woman, a victim and a criminal yet she was free! She was despicable but she had been compassionate! She was joyful thanks to this incredible woman who made her feel so…alive, although she was simultaneously desolate. In her confusion her weeping became hysterical.

Joan disentangled her hand from Vera and the satin rope that the kimono had become. She grabbed Vera by her arms and shook her, sliding her onto the mattress. She knelt hunched between Vera’s splayed legs trying to engage her eyes as she blubbered and wallowed in her own self-pity.  
“Vera!” Joan shook her again. “Vera! Look at me!” She wrenched Vera’s chin up, giving her no option. “Calm yourself, Vera.” Goddamn it! Joan’s patience was growing mightily thin with tonight’s tedium. A little light arousal did not balance out the level of self-sacrifice she was being required to make in the pursuit of her goal.  
“Vera!!” She slapped Vera’s cheek with her sticky palm, not hard, but firmly enough to leave a fleeting white mark.  
The shock focused Vera’s eyes. She gazed at Joan through her flood of hiccoughing tears.  
Joan slapped her again. Harder. “That’s enough!” The sting spread out across her palm, warming her fingers, enervating her cunt. Her already wet sex flooded at the sight of Vera’s tearstained distress.

Vera’s hand flew to her reddened face. She stared wide-eyed at Joan as clarity returned, riding bareback on a jolt of hungry lust. Her cool fingers traced the outline of her tearstained lips and she challenged Joan’s commanding look - naked desire in her eyes. She pressed her fingers to her smarting cheek, enjoying the sting and her body was rocked by a slow, solitary convulsion originating from her cunt. 

Vera scrambled to her knees and pushed Joan backwards with surprising agility. Joan’s upper body teetered over the corner of the mattress, her elongated frame too generous for Vera’s pedestrian double bed. She was forced to scoot inelegantly towards the centre and a suddenly predatory Vera.   
Drawing her bent knees together she licked her lips. “Vera, you wanted me to make love to you……”  
“It’s all the same, Joan.” She looked down at this naked, suddenly accessible woman who inflamed and confused her overburdened mind, not to mention her body. Vera felt consumed by lust for this…creature beneath her. Her inflamed cunt ached, her mind swirled; she needed to feel that she had power over her, however fleeting; just ONE time would do to convince herself that she wasn’t completely in thrall to Joan. 

She pushed Joan’s knees down and straddled her hips feeling the dark bush tickle her tender clit as she leant forward and slowly rubbed her hard nipples across the recumbent woman’s breasts. She watched entranced as they dragged on the velvety skin, the friction helping to build the heat in her cunt as it slipped over Joan’s trembling belly. A brief glance at Joan’s face revealed that she was just as captivated by the sight.  
Vera pressed herself tightly against her enchantress’ voluptuous chest and rocking her body against Joan’s she nuzzled the elegant ivory neck that drew her gaze time and again at work. Joan inhaled sharply as Vera’s hot mouth began its incendiary journey from her ear down to the delicate hollow of her throat; she brought her hands to Vera’s tight buttocks as moist lips trailed down to her left breast.

Amazed by their softness Vera lifted Joan’s breasts together, squeezing and rolling the pliant mounds in her small hands, burying her face in their yielding mass. She rubbed her still sore cheek over a thrusting tip working her mouth closer until it closed over the hard pink cone. She sucked hard, lashing it with her tongue whilst she rolled the other rubbery tip between her eager fingertips. Joan arched her back in response and gripped Vera’s bum tighter.  
With her flexed tongue she pushed the nipple hard against the blades of her teeth causing Joan to moan and grind her thighs together, pushing her pelvis towards Vera. She wasn’t happy about this level of intimacy with Vera but she couldn’t deny her apparently profuse arousal.  
Looking into Joan's eyes, Vera swung her leg off Joan’s hip and boldly placed her palm against the soft bush covering the luscious folds that had smothered her face on their very first night. Smoothing the pelt, her hand travelled further between Joan’s long thighs, deeper into the damp furnace that had been denied her for so long.  
Her fingers explored the sticky flanges, so like her own yet so alien, so intoxicating. Her clit swelled further, throbbing as she encountered a pool of silken fluid filling the twitching hollow of Joan’s entrance.   
Joan’s mouth parted, her eyelids fluttering. She drew a deep, exhilarated breath through her exquisitely flared nostrils at the rare touch of another’s hand. 

Joan made a decision – Vera needed to give affection and have it appreciated, rejection at this point would negate all of Joan’s hard work. Slapping Vera had excited them both beyond expectation and there would not be another opportunity quite like this to discover if her desire for Vera’s attentions was merely a pleasant phase or a stark reality, although she strongly suspected the latter. She opened her thighs for Vera.  
Vera moved between Joan's impossibly long legs and used her thumbs to part her darkly furred lips. The dark pink folds glistened in the lamplight; they slid aside as Vera ran her index finger between their delicate edges. She discovered Joan’s clitoris, large and hard.   
She slid the hood around the peak, applying her favourite pattern of stimulation, watching Joan’s face intently for confirmation that she was doing it right. 

Grabbing Vera’s hand she plunged it between her legs. ”Put all of your fingers inside me.”  
“Oh my god, Joan, you’re so wet!” Most of her hand was swallowed by a hot, clutching softness, the webbing of her thumb bringing it up short, the toughened, fleshy pad rubbing against Joan’s stiff clit.  
“Ahh that’s good! Ahh ffuuu… ” She muttered thickly, rolling her head against the rumpled sheet. Vera knelt between her legs pumping her arm as Joan pinched her own nipples, scratched at her tits, raked her fingers across her body. She grabbed handfuls of her own flesh, pulling and twisting, her beautifully manicured nails digging deep. Her white skin bloomed with roses of self-inflicted pain. All the time staring at Vera’s jiggling tits – she found the sight so unbelievably hot!  
With her knees drawn up around Vera’s shoulders Joan’s whole body jerked. Her mind tried to throw up barriers to her encroaching climax but base physiology took over.

Vera was dumbstruck at the sight of Joan Ferguson writhing in front of her. This was her fantasy come to life, the one she had been punished for. This may be her only time to explore this sleek goddess; Joan had made it clear that this was an exception to her many arbitrary rules. She leaned forward to kiss Joan.   
Joan pushed herself forward to meet Vera’s lips, her tongue thrusting into an open, receptive mouth - she couldn’t deny her need any longer. She subdued Vera’s tongue, her own thrashing over gums, teeth and palate, making Vera’s cheeks flutter and her eyes roll in her head. Joan could not get enough of this suddenly desirable woman. Her rational mind was shouting that this wasn’t how it was meant to be, this was wrong; she should not surrender herself so easily to her base attraction to her subordinate. It wasn’t acceptable. Yet every nerve in her body was begging for more, crying out for the release that it had been demanding since their first meeting. 

Joan sat up, trapping Vera’s hand against the mattress as she ground her engorged sex against the captive paw. She clasped Vera to her, biting her shoulder as a white-hot knot of tension twisted her insides until she could barely stand it. The rich, heady smell of their secretions mingled with the sweat coating their slippery bodies as the two mismatched women heaved against each other.  
Pulling back Joan forced Vera’s head down to her nipple. “Bite it, Vera, bite it hard!” She felt the shocking, brilliant burn of Vera’s grinding teeth transmute to exhilarating pleasure as they sank deep into the desperately tender flesh of her breast. Her cunt gave a warning jolt before her solid frame was shaken by a series of explosive convulsions. But there was no corresponding explosion in her mind – she felt the pleasure but it wasn’t the same as before – not like when she had been in complete control; she would have to reflect on this situation later.

Cool air chilled her bruised and burning nipple as Vera slowly relinquished the shimmering flesh. Joan reached between her legs and gently extracted Vera’s small, pale hand; a rush of musk filled heat escaping into the slim divide between them. They cradled each other as Joan’s afterglow gave way to weary satisfaction. She had given Vera what she needed and she reluctantly allowed herself to be drawn up the bed by her deputy and held, reluctant because now that the moment had passed Joan began to feel the need to detach herself from Vera, no matter how well she had managed to pleasure her, but she had promised to stay with Vera until she had fallen asleep and she was a woman of her word. 

Vera felt replete. She had made love to Joan, not just had sex with her - actually made love. And she had made Joan come! She felt a swell of pride, something that had been missing in her for a long time. She felt like she had regained some sense of self again. She may be many things but she was a woman who knew what she wanted. She was Joan’s Deputy and she accepted all that the post entailed regardless of the occasional personal sacrifice, no matter how daunting. The trade-off was worth it. Vera snuggled into Joan’s chest, her eyes growing heavy as Joan gently stroked her hair, her heartbeat lulling Vera into relieved oblivion.

Joan contemplated her early morning appointment at the fencing studio, she had exerted enough energy this evening and she did not wish to be excessively fatigued. She waited for five long minutes after Vera’s slight body had completely relaxed into hers before gingerly rolling her away and slipping off the crowded mattress. She picked up her watch and made her way to the door, briefly pausing to cover Vera with the quilt. Standing over the sleeping woman she considered once again the effect she had on her libido. It was uncanny that she, the master riddler, was unable to solve this conundrum.

The house was deathly silent as she headed towards the laundry room to retrieve her clothes.   
She felt that she should pay Rita a final visit. Bending over the cooling husk of the vicious, selfish old woman she whispered “She’s mine now. It’s me she strives to please. You’ll have no hold on her ever again.” She smiled in the knowledge of tonight’s accomplishments.

The moon had risen and cool light shone on the monochrome figure of Governor Ferguson as she quietly let herself out of the house and strode towards her car, crumpled linen flowing with each confident sway of her sticky hips.


End file.
